


Control

by DigUpTheBones_ButLeaveTheSoulAlone



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Sexual Content, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Time Travel, Vaginal Sex, Young Madara Uchiha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 11:53:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7683502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DigUpTheBones_ButLeaveTheSoulAlone/pseuds/DigUpTheBones_ButLeaveTheSoulAlone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sakura wonders how it ends up being him. Sasuke is dead, by  the man who had claimed to be Madara Uchiha, but was actually Kakashi-sensei’s teammate. Naruto was darker now. Ino was in interrogation now, wrapping herself defensively around Sai. Shikamaru was colder, more calculating and colder.</p>
<p>	Rookie 9 was scattered across the globe. Tsunade-shishou was re-building Konohagakure. Kakashi-sensei was protecting her. Naruto and Killer B were training the new Jinchurikis. </p>
<p>	And here Sakura was. With the first traitor to her village.</p>
<p>	Madara Uchiha.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Control

Control  
Sakura wonders how it ends up being him. Sasuke is dead, by the man who had claimed to be Madara Uchiha, but was actually Kakashi-sensei’s teammate. Naruto was darker now. Ino was in interrogation now, wrapping herself defensively around Sai. Shikamaru was colder, more calculating and colder.

Rookie 9 was scattered across the globe. Tsunade-shishou was re-building Konohagakure. Kakashi-sensei was protecting her. Naruto and Killer B were training the new Jinchurikis. 

And here Sakura was. With the first traitor to her village.

Madara Uchiha.

Sasuke and Naruto had fucked up--badly. The jutsu they created had been to turn back time, to go back and fix things. But it hadn’t done that. It had brought someone from the past to their time. Sasuke had begun to deteriorate at a rapid rate after that. Stress, pain, loss, or whatever had been done to him had taken him over. He was a shell of who he was, but death brought him peace. He had begged Sakura not to heal him. She and Naruto held him as he died. In the end she couldn’t save Sasuke. Neither could Naruto.

Madara Uchiha wasn’t like she expected. He was younger, though. He had been taken somehow from a time before he had been tainted and before he had helped create Konohagakure. When he was still an idealist. Tsunade allowed her to read her grandfather's journals, and it amazed her how a man with so much...so much potential for good could have become so clouded. But it started with death. With his brother, Izuna’s death. Something in him broke, like Sasuke. 

Madara had helped defeat Obito. Helped them divide the Ten-tails. Helped them destroy Kagura. But now, with spirits and demons running rampant across their world, he had vowed to end this. End the pain and suffering he had caused, or in his case could have.

It made Sakura angry.

How? How could a man who had done things so horrible get a second chance? How could he, the man who betrayed and killed thousands of people, get a second chance? How could he, but Sasuke fall to his madness? How did Sasuke lose it?

“Kunoichi?” Madara’s voice echoes across the cave system. It’s lower than Sasuke’s, but it isn’t dark. His voice is deep, and she finds herself moving to him quietly. 

He kneels over a the ledge of the cave. 

His hair is much shorter than the history books reported. Though, he was ten years younger now than when he helped create Konohagakure. His hair reminds her a bit of Sasuke’s, wild and long. But it shoots out every which way. It doesn’t fall very down his back. His clothes are reminiscent of Kakashi-sensei, as well. He doesn’t wear a flak jacket. His black long sleeved thick sweater is tucked up his forearms. His gloves are fingerless as well. He wears boots though, with a katana strapped to his back. 

Sakura leans over the edge, breathing out slowly.

“The Two-tail was here.” He says, voice low and grating. She watches his expression. There’s no fear, no hint of anything other than pure determination and calculation. She scowls.

“How long? How long ago?” 

He breaths in, and releases a smooth breath. “Not long.” His Sharingan is something Sakura has grown used too. She doesn’t look him in the eye when he talks to her, but she watches when he is focused on other things. It’s an easy thing, watching him. He has more grace than anyone she’s ever met. Grace, strength, and poise. It’s interesting, she thinks. The man in front of her isn’t the man that she knew from the journals of the First. She watches constantly: desperately trying to uncover who he really is. If he’ll fall to the Curse of Hatred like he did in another life. If he’ll suffer the same fate as the man she once loved. She knows he knows. He turns back to face her, and she looks to his lips, away from his eyes. “A few weeks ago. It seems that she’s returned several times.”

Sakura looks past him again, looks down into the open cave.

She breathes in slowly, nodding, and waits for him to decide his next step. He stands up slowly, running a hand through his hair. Sakura purposefully ignores this, turning around and moving back through the cave.

“We’ll stay here for now,” he says quietly. Sakura breaths slowly, nodding. 

It was due to snow soon. It was the first real storm of the winter. It wouldn’t be easy. And she’d be trapped here.

“Collect firewood,” he tells her. “I’ll collect food.” She turns back to him and nods, but avoids his eyes, her own focusing on the movement of his adam’s apple. She breaths smoothly out, and moves up the caves, past their belongings. 

It takes four trips to collect more than enough firewood. She’s worries on getting more, before deciding to go off once more. She moves their things farther down the cave system, to protect from the wind and snow. She moves rocks along the perimeter, blocking even more. Then she sets up a circle where the fire will go, careful to position it perfectly.

By the time he comes back, the fire is roaring and Sakura is setting up the bedrolls. One on either side of the fire. They ignore each other as they finish their own tasks, Madara cooking dinner and sealing away fish for later during the storm. Sakura turns to him quietly, and tosses him a cup. He catches it easily. 

They keep to themselves. It’s easier this way, for Sakura at least. She doesn’t know why she agreed to come. It was an optional mission. An unranked one. One with probably the most dangerous Shinobi in History. Other than the First. One that provided no safety. But maybe that’s why she picked it.

Sakura eats silently as she stares into space.

They’d been on this mission for two months, and she’d never been on such a silent mission. 

She had fought with him before. Healed him before. Bleed with him before. 

But she didn’t know what to make of him. Her own observations told her that he was driven. Mission orientated and while she didn’t completely understand his motives (considering he’d never be able to go back in time, and Konohagakure hadn’t even been created when he had been...taken from his time) Sakura wasn’t quite sure she could trust her own opinions.

She had been wrong about Sasuke.

“Have you decided?” His voice breaks her from her thoughts, and she thinks back to her first mission with Kakashi-sensei, when she had thought that he could read minds. It almost makes her smile.

She knows he’s been studying her as she’s studied him. She breaths in, taking a sip of water and she lays down, looking up at the ceiling of the cave. 

“No.”

He lets out a grunt and Sakura smiles.

“Perhaps you should work on your observation skills.” He says, annoyed. She looks at him for a moment. But, he doesn’t look like the cruel man she’d read of in training. No, this man in front of her seemed more to be like the idealistic and confident friend of the first. He’s leaning against the cave wall, one arm resting on a raised knee, with the other one twirling a shuriken. 

“Is it an Uchiha thing that makes you infuriating? Or do you do that on your own?” She wonders out loud. There’s a stillness before he shifts.

“Did you know them?” Sakura breaths in, frowning. He knows that his clan is long dead. Sakura always saw Sasuke as the last of his clan, because he had been (nearly). Only for him to bring one of the strongest of the Uchiha into their present. And to die before he did.

“I...I knew two of them. They were both...incredibly complicated.”

“Your teammate.” Sakura breaths in. He had been there when Sasuke had died. He had been there when Sakura and Naruto’s dream had been shattered.

“And his brother.” Sakura says quietly. “All the others...well. I was born to a civilian family. I wasn’t privy to the Uchiha clan.” 

She didn’t really remember them. Back then she had been so focused on Sasuke.

“You speak of your teammates brother as if he is not a monster.” He says. His voice is level, but the way the weapon in his hand moves shifts. Sakura closes her eyes. Tsunade-shishou had told her to follow her gut on this mission. That if she felt like she could trust him, then trust him. After what he’d done for them, she said he deserved it.

“Itachi Uchiha...was in many ways a very complicated man. By thirteen years old, he was commanding his own special ops. And before six, he had already participated in war. Obito Uchiha, under the guise of your name, attacked our village.” Sakura says smoothly, her voice cold but aching. How she wished that things could have been different. “He let loose the 9-tailed demon inside of Naruto. Hundreds died. The Uchiha were suspected cohorts.” She breathed in slowly. “According to Itachi Uchiha, he believed that a core group of his family helped him, believing that you had come to reclaim your title and level Konohagakure.” Sakura felt her fingertips pad against the soft bedding beneath her. “The Uchiha were...under intense scrutiny. Obito Uchiha began manipulating them. They planned a coup that would have started a civil war. The Third Hokage tried to reason and settle things with them. Fugaku Uchiha, the head of the clan at this time, had no idea what his clan was planning. And the Thirds implication pushed him over the edge. Itachi was told to spy on Konohagakure. He, in turn, became a double agent for the Third.” Sakura felt her voice waver, but she took a deep breath.

“Danzo Shimura was a traitor. But he hid himself well. He...manipulated Itachi into killing the Uchiha. He told him that if he didn’t, he would...he would turn Sasuke into a weapon. Into a Root member...into a robot.” She pauses, wondering when she had begun to tremble. She clenches her fists and glares at the ceiling.

“Itachi killed his clan. The Third was horrified: he still believed that he could forge peace. But he kept Sasuke safe. At that time, Itachi believed he was keeping him safe from Madara Uchiha--sorry, Obito, who helped Itachi kill the clan. Obito...Obito hated the clan and rejoiced in their massacre. Itachi, he...he put Sasuke under a Genjutsu. One that told him that he killed them to become stronger-the strongest shinobi on Earth. He did it...to protect Sasuke. To protect our village.” It sounds empty, Sakura realizes. Because even she doesn’t believe it.

She can feel his chakra shift. 

“Do you believe that bullshit?” He asks, voice terrifyingly quiet and calm.

Sakura feels the tear slip down her face as she looks away from him.

“Do I believe that children had to die? Or innocents? Or that Sasuke-kun had to be tainted like that? That Itachi should have had to do what he did? That he had to join a terrorist organization to protect our village even further? Why do you think Sasuke and Naruto tried so hard on that time travel jutsu? For what? You?” She snaps, sitting up and looking at him.

“I loved him. And everything was robbed from him before he could even fight for it. At twelve years old he wanted to murder his own brother. Because that was what Itachi gave up to protect him. Obito Uchiha was the monster. Danzo Shimura was a monster. Itachi Uchiha was a boy who was forced to work between to monsters to protect his brother. To protect our village.” She snaps. She’s shaking, she knows, and she’s looking at him. His Sharingan is blazing, is twirling and he looks furious. “And Sasuke was a little boy who was broken. And he never had the chance to heal.” Her chest is heaving, and her cheeks are wet. “This is the world you helped make.”

He glares--angry, because how dare she?

“My brothers were murdered because of senseless fighting. This is everything I sought to stop!” He snaps at her, voice hard and so cold. Sakura laughs, crying, hysterical and painful.

“The man you became, was a monster. He created this, you taught Obito everything, you divided us!” She snaps. 

He’s got her by the throat, pressing her up against the stone cold wall.

She glares at him, never wavering. “Go ahead,” she chokes out. “Prove me right.” His nostrils flare, his hands trembling. His hands loosen and the anger in his eyes dissipate.

“I’m not him.” His voice is quiet again. “I won’t be. I won’t let it happen, Kunoichi.” 

His eyes are charcoal again. Dark and angry. His eyes are strong, though. Strong with determination and fierceness.

“I’ll start it over. I’ll do it right, this time.” She believes him, to her gut and to her heart, she does.

She remembers the day that he had erupted from the white and glowing explosion. Wild-eyed and mistrustful. The Third Tsuchikage had actually prayed to the Gods, and Sasuke looked like he had seen a ghost. Sakura had never been so in awe and so terrified in her life. 

He was beautiful, and that terrified her now. She had seen his strength, but War had made her unafraid of death. Sometimes, when days were dark, she even welcomed it. Sakura tilts her head in inclination of his message.

His hand is still on her throat, she realizes. She breathes in sharply when his finger twitches, eyes raising to his. He pulls her to him, suddenly. Guides her with his hand, which fits easily around her throat. Their noses touch, and Sakura finds herself releasing another shaky breath. Madara’s eyebrows are drawn together, tight and he moves forward. Their lips touch, soft. His lips aren’t rough, but they aren’t smooth like she had expected of a perfect kiss. His lips are cold, and her body is on fire. He pulls away and she lets out a quiet noise.

His eyes raise to hers, charcoal and jade. Her hand raises, and she realizes belatedly that she still has gloves on. But she traces his jaw and the lines of his neck. He presses his lips to hers again, pulling back a bit when her fingers rise up his face and trace his brow bone. 

His eyes are unsure, and Sakura doesn’t quite know what they’re doing, but she wants more of it. She shifts forward and presses her lips against is for a change, and the hand on the nape of her neck slides into hair, tightening and her head moves back a bit, a quiet gasp slipping from her lips. He follows her, his other hand sliding down from where he had leaned against the rock behind her. He slides down the gentle curve of her breasts, the lean muscle of her stomach down to the swell of her waist. 

Sakura moans, pulling her hands away as she hastily takes her gloves off. She rises on her knees, rising above his body, so he reaches up for her lips. Her fingers dive into his hair and grab the collar of his shirt. His hands shift down, wrapping around each muscled thigh as he lifts her. 

She breaks away with a gasp as he shifts and lays her on her back. Her legs clumsily slip out from under her. He slots himself between her parted thighs. 

Her eyes trace his shifting body as he open mouthed kisses on her jaw and neck. She can feel her own pulse, and Kami does she ache for something. Her fingers are cold as they slip down his thick wool shirt and she untucks it from his pants. She feels the pressure of blunt teeth and the moan is out of her mouth before she even realizes it feels good. 

“Madara,” she says quietly. He grunts, bites again and Sakura presses her freezing cold fingers against the warmth of his back. 

He hisses, biting harder this time and Sakura scratches at his back, vision going white and she swears her blood is on fire. 

He sits up though, scowling at the fire as stands up and tosses another log into it. He grabs his own bedroll and drops it next to hers. 

She moves jerkily to attach it to one another, zipping up the center as he grabs the two thick, wool blankets and attaches them together as well. He pulls her blanket from under her using one hand to pull her up by her thigh. She looks up at him, her chest rising quickly. He secures the blankets tightly. 

His eyes aren’t charcoal anymore.

She kicks off her boots, before sliding under the blankets. He uses his teeth to take of his gloves as he unbuckles his pants. Her stomach drops at the sight, hooded vibrant red eyes watching her in the campfire.

He’s fucking gorgeous.

Once he’s done with his gloves he looks at her hard.

“Undress.” He orders. Sakura feels an edge to it, and she wonders if he’d punish her if she refused.

Her eyes widen at the thought of that, and she wonders where the hell she got that from.

She hurries to strip herself, starting with her vest and then her top. Then she works on the thick pants and spandex under it. When she looks up next he’s standing above her, arms raised, bare stomach showing as he strips himself as well.

Her mouth dries at the planes of scarred skin, lean and soft slopes. There’s a particular scar just above his belly button that she wants to put her mouth on. Beneath his navel, is a thatch of hair that disappears into his unbuckled pants.

“Do I need to help you, or are you capable of finishing your task on your own?” He sounds smug, and when she looks up, his arms slowly dropping to his side and his shirt drops beside her head, she glares. 

“Could you be anymore infuriating?” Sakura bites back, as she peels off her bindings and bra. Her underwear comes last. Her bare legs rub against the blanket as she slips the blanket back over her skin. She ignores the urge to cover her breasts as her nipples harden at the cold. 

She can see the outline of his bulge on his dark pants. He’s watching her with dark eyes. She raises a defiant eyebrow. “Do you need help? Or is this task easy enough for you to complete?” He smirks suddenly, unbuttoning and unzipping. He steps off of the make-shift bed and turns his back to her as he undoes his latches for thigh pack and then his boots first. Once they’re off, he drops his pants and Sakura admires the strength of his bottom, pale and sinewy. He tosses his pants by her head and turns around.

Her mouth waters. 

He’s so fucking beautiful. Pale skin, dark hair, and dark eyes. He’s tall, strong, lean and gracefully made. His entire body is covered in scars. They reflect slightly off of the limited light they have. 

Sakura has seen naked men before. She’s seen all of it: but something about this at this moment makes her thighs rub together. He sees that and smirks.

He’s just a bit longer than average, but his girth is what makes Sakura want to moan. She glares at him though, which makes his smirk even deeper, and he moves over her again, slipping down and on top of her. 

Her hands twist over his skin, cool to the touch and she traces larger scars. He slips a hand under her thigh, lifting and wrapping her legs around his waist. She wants to moan at the contact. Her breasts ache to be touched, but she slants her hips up and slide herself against his body, moaning and the friction. 

He hisses in surprise as she feels him slip across her, and her cheeks flame red at the slickness that he draws against her bare bottom as he grinds himself lower. He drags his teeth against her cheek, down her jaw. She moans again, and he grinds himself against her slickness again.

“Kunoichi,” he sighs against her neck as he nips and sucks, and she almost smiles. 

“Uchiha,” she teases. He growls, nips, and grinds himself against her again, continuously in a slow rhythm. She could hear her own heartbeat in her ears as she gasps out loud, neck and back arching against him.

He hisses through clenched teeth, but the thickness rubbing against the bundle of nerves between her thigh make her quiet moans slip into a higher octave. 

His hand grasps roughly at her bottom. She moans again, scraping her nails against his scalp. 

“You’re so fucking wet,” he growls into her neck, grinding and she can feel herself twitch and clench at his words. “Fuck,” he hisses. He shifts himself lower, biting and sucking on her breasts. She moans his name, but when his lips latch onto her nipple, and his hand raising from it’s spot on her bottom to twist around her nipple, her vision goes temporarily white.

“M-Madara,” she pleads, voice whining. He looks up, eyes glowing as he sucks harder. She gasps, back arching as she struggles to find someway to ground herself.

It’s never been like this before. She never thought it could be like this.

He lets go of her breasts bites the side of her breast with a wanting grunt.

He shifts back up, pulling her lobe into his mouth. He sucks for a moment before he growls.

“From now on,” he mutters, “this is all you’ll know. I’ll make you feel ways no other man could ever dream of making you feel.” Sakura is confused for a moment, whining in question before she realizes that she had said that outloud.

Shit.

She claws at his shoulders as he bites down again, a hand slipping between their intertwined bodies. He aligns himself against her, pushing in slowly and steady. When he pulls away his hand, her slickness comes with it, wetting the path where he pulls his hand from.

The fullness takes her by surprise, and the wrecked moan that slips from his lips make her clench her inner muscles. 

“Please, please, please, please,” she begs him over and over again. He bares his teeth, resting his forehead against her collarbone as he sets a steady rhythm with his thrusts. 

She moans aloud again, clawing at his back and canting her hips upward. He pulls away from her body and looks down to where they’re joined. Breathing sharply out of his nose, he adjusts the position of his legs, and shifts over her, placing one hand by her head. His other hand shifts between her thigh and waist. He settles above her and rolls his hips--

“Fuck!” She hisses, her hand clawing for purchase as his hips rolled harder. 

His jaw is left slightly open, and his brow looks slightly tensed. But his breathing is heavy and there are soft moans that slip from him. Sakura watches him, breath coming fast and shifts her thighs back, and lets out a much louder moan than ever before as the angle shifts in a way that makes her actually shake.

His eyes snap up from where they’re joined. He smirks, suddenly. His hips snap faster now, and his breathing is getting ragged, and Sakura feels her entire body tightening, threatening to shatter in a million pieces.

His hand shifts from her waist to between her thighs, through the pink thatch of curls and he mercilessly rubs her clit.

Sakura gasps, her body tensing as his hips begin slapping against her’s harder.

He’s shaking, she realizes in a haze as she nears her peak. 

She opens her eyes, once she realizes she’s closed them. Her mouth is open and moans and gasps and his name are a constant now. His eyes are desperate in a way that makes her shiver. The coils in her belly tighten to a point of pain when his eyes widen and her name falls from his lips, hips losing rhythm as he grinds and rolls harder now.

She shatters.

It’s an overwhelming sense of pleasure, so good it’s nearly painful. He gasps out her name and grinds harder. His name flies from her lips in a desperate plea as she shakes and gasps for breath.

Her breath is racing as his moans grow farther apart, and the desperate and wrecked look turn to a smug one. 

Sakura finds herself unable to find any sort of desire to wipe it from his face.

He kisses her suddenly, open mouthed and sloppily, collapsing on top of her. 

“You and I,” he mutters into her lips, “will never be separated.” He says quietly in pants.

Sakura almost believes him. The piece of nagging terror at losing him is something that she shoves down.

In Sasuke’s eyes she had seen rage and pain.

In Madara’s eyes, she sees the future. And it’s terrifyingly thrilling.


End file.
